


Long Story Short, A Long Time Ago

by AnotherFan (imagine_asagao)



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio), Wooden Overcoats (Podcast)
Genre: (and by podfic I mean me reading the story to you), M/M, Not only a podfic though, Past Relationship(s), Personal Growth, Podfic Available, Podfic Length: 20-30 Minutes, Spy Eric Chapman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28196916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagine_asagao/pseuds/AnotherFan
Summary: Eric Chapman wanted to live a quiet life on a small island.  Unfortunately his mysterious past catches up with him.Warren Kepler just wants to be respected.  Unfortunately Cutter decides to give him a personally challenging mission.Rated T for language, implied violence, and vaguely implied sexuality(Should be understandable without listening to both podcasts)
Relationships: Daniel Jacobi/Warren Kepler, Eric Chapman/Rudyard Funn, Georgie Crusoe/Alana Maxwell (background), Warren Kepler/Eric Chapman, Warren Kepler/Richard Littlewood
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, and happy holidays! This was made as a Christmas present for my friend Clara (chaoticwholesomeness and rosieposiecosplay on tiktok) and since she has dyslexia and adhd, I decided to read it out loud for her. Please not that I am not a voice actor (I'm not even an actor), but if you want, you can listen [here](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1lHKmYMW8L3iQmuxHeTMhDSYgaZ9nY8II/view?usp=sharing)
> 
> Thank you so much to Cecil (grace_fuly on tiktok) for beta reading this (and also making sure all the British things are correct)!!

Long story short, a long time ago, Eric Chapman was not Eric Chapman. He’d gone by many names, too many to list here. But he chose the name Eric Chapman and decided to live a quiet life. And a small island close to where he grew up would probably be quiet, right? And considering the amount of death he had seen, he could easily open a funeral home. That would probably be a quiet profession. But Eric’s life is never quiet. He should have guessed it wouldn’t be so easy or quiet as he had hoped it would be. Of course the island already had a funeral home, run by twins, Rudyard and Antigone, who saw everything as a competition. Of course, he saw everything as a competition, too, so they were quite the match, much to Eric’s dismay. But he supposed a quiet life just wasn’t meant for him, so it was probably good that the Funns kept him on his toes.

But this isn’t that story.

This is the story of when Eric Chapman’s past caught up to him.

* * *

Warren Kepler did not like small towns. He expected small islands in the English Channel wouldn’t be any different. But he couldn’t argue with Mr. Cutter’s orders. So he and his team were currently on a ferry over to an island called… Piffling Vale. What a stupid name for an island. Who even lived there? According to the mission instructions, they were supposed to tie up a loose end who lived there within two weeks. Cutter wouldn’t tell them who, but then again, he loved to make things dramatic and complicated. Apparently they would know when they saw the former operative. The plan was to keep a low profile until they completed their mission. They only had two weeks to get it done, but considering how small the island was, that should be more than enough time.

Eventually the boat got to the island, and Kepler led Maxwell and Jacobi off the ferry. A bus stop greeted them with some… old teenagers? Young adults? One of the two, waiting for them. “What time does the bus come?” Kepler asked the group.

“Oh, there is no bus, the mayor decided that the Local Village Hoodlums needed a bus stop to hang around,” one of them said.

“Yeah, every group of Local Village Hoodlums needs a good bus stop,” another said.

“No bus-” Kepler started before remembering. He wasn’t here to call attention to himself, at least not yet, and yelling at a bunch of teens was a good way to call attention to himself. He took a deep breath. “Okay, how do we get into town?” he asked.

“Oh, just follow the road. You can’t miss it,” one of them said. Kepler turned away to follow the road. He heard Maxwell thank the group before following him.

“Do you have any clue who we’re supposed to be looking for?” Jacobi asked.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Cutter decided not to provide any of that knowledge. We’ll know who it is when we see them,” Kepler kept looking forward. Soon, buildings began to appear, and before they knew it, they were in the center of a town. There was a group on one side making a lot of commotion.

“Rudyard! What is the meaning of this? Good old fashioned competition, I understand, but this is downright sabotage!” That voice. It belonged to- no. It couldn’t be. If it was… If it truly was him, this had to be who Cutter was talking about.

Up ahead, a man with a small but distinctive scar along his cheekbone was arguing with two people dressed in black who looked as though they barely saw the sun. A woman with red hair watched on. Unfortunately for Warren Kepler, the man with the scar was facing him. “Warren?” the man asked.

* * *

“Warren?” asked the man who went by Richard Littlewood. “We’re on soon.” Kepler looked up and grabbed his guitar before following Littlewood to the wings. “How’s the set up going?” he whispered.

“I think the results will be exactly what we need,” Kepler replied.

“I always knew you were the right man for this job,” Littlewood answered with a wink. Their bandmates started gathering around them.

“Welcome to the stage, everyone’s favorite new sensation, Enjoy Yourselves!” Littlewood squeezed Kepler’s hand for good luck before separating to take their place.

* * *

Warren Kepler stood in front of Eric Chapman. He couldn’t be here, he wasn’t supposed to find him, no one who knew who he was should even know he was alive. He thought that after Kansas, Cutter would start telling everyone he died. “What are you doing here?” he asked. The possibilities were racing through his head. There were only so many reasons he could be there. He just hoped-

“Mr. Cutter sent us to look for someone troublesome,” Warren answered.

“Well, this man is certainly very troublesome,” Rudyard said. “This island doesn’t need two funeral homes.”

“Oh, I’m being incredibly rude! Let me introduce everyone. I’m Eric Chapman-” he sent a pointed look to Warren “-this man over here is Rudyard Funn, this is his sister Antigone Funn, and that young lady over there is their employee Georgie Crusoe.” He finished with his signature charming smile. To his credit, Warren didn’t miss a beat.

“Nice to meet you all. My name is Warren Kepler. These are my partners Daniel Jacobi and Alana Maxwell.” He knew it would have to happen, but Eric still felt the sting when Warren introduced the two people as his partners. Warren, for his part, did not outwardly appear to be antagonizing Eric. Still, Eric remembered how much he loved to tease but also how much he needed to feel superior.

* * *

Eric’s back slammed into a wall, Warren pressing close to him. “What did I tell you?” Warren murmured, practically into Eric’s mouth.

“That I shouldn’t contradict you in front of the band?” Eric breathed.

“And what did you do?”

“Told the band that the sound check was cancelled right after you scheduled it. In my defense-”

“You don’t have a defense.”

“You forget who is in charge of this mission, Warren.”

“You forget who is the lead of the band.”

“Ah, but the mission comes before the band.”

“But they don’t know that. And we want to keep our cover, don’t we?”

“You’re on thin ice, Warren. Remember your place.”

“I will. Now that that’s settled, how do you think I should punish you for disobeying an order?”

“I could ask you that same thing.”

* * *

Kepler didn’t miss the glance Jacobi sent his way. He didn’t miss the hurt in Littlewood’s- Chapman’s eyes. He didn’t miss the memories that resurfaced after he had pushed them so far down. But he was Warren Kepler. He didn’t let pesky little things like feelings get in the way of doing his job.

“What brings you here?” Chapman asked.

“Just doing some scouting for our boss,” Kepler said. “We’ll be here for two weeks. Do you know where we can stay?”

“You can stay with me. Things in our home have been really quiet since… Well, they’re too quiet,” the redhead, Crusoe, said.

“Georgie, you really shouldn’t, they’re strangers, you don’t know what they’re like,” Littlewood, Chapman, oh whoever, protested.

“I appreciate your concern, but I can handle myself,” Crusoe glared at him. Ah, so she did not seem to care for him. That would be good information to know.

“Do be careful,” one of the Funns, Antigone, said.

“Don’t worry, if I need any help, there are plenty of people I can call. And I'm great at screaming really loud if necessary.” Miss Crusoe seemed to favor the Funns. Kepler’s team staying at her place was the best possible option by far, then.

“Excellent. Now, I don’t mean to interrupt, but it would be wonderful if we could put our luggage somewhere while we get acquainted with the town,” Kepler said.

* * *

“If we could just take a more aggressive approach, we could have ended this months ago!” Kepler yelled.

“If we did that, we would put civilians’ lives at risk!” Littlewood yelled back. A knock on the door interrupted them. Littlewood glared at Kepler before answering it. One of their bandmates stood at the door.

“Hey, are you two alright?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, we’re just fine,” Littlewood replied.

“Okay, just wanted to make sure your lover’s quarrel wouldn’t interfere with the rest of the band.”

“No, of course not, we’re professionals. Enjoy yourself! Damn, I need to stop saying that.”

The band member shrugged. “It becomes habit. You’re never getting rid of saying it now.”

* * *

Eric tore into his office. “How could they find me?” he muttered. “It’s Goddard Futuristics, they can find anyone,” he sighed. “Why did it take so long for them to start this mission, though? Why did they decide to send someone here now?”

There, in the bottom of his filing cabinet, was a file with a key. He pulled it out, all the papers detailing who he was fluttering to the ground around him. He grabbed the key and looked for the little black box that it went to. He finally found it and opened the box. The folder and this box were all that remained of Richard Littlewood, beyond whatever about him Goddard had. He grabbed the gun from where it had been hidden and briefly checked to make sure he still had his knife on him.

Who knew what Goddard had on him. Had they been keeping track of him since Kansas? Did they know everything about everyone in Piffling? Eric remembered what Warren was like. While he preferred a method that was less risky, Warren loved to take chances and to make a dramatic show of things, not caring who got hurt. He hoped no one in Piffling would get hurt on his account.

* * *

“Warren, next time you plan to put anyone in danger, you confirm it with me first,” Richard looked up at Warren. “I know you’re still new to this, but generally, I like to keep casualties to a minimum, especially civilian casualties.”

“But only one person died,” Warren protested.

“And that one person had family and friends who cared about them,” Eric said. “Taking a life is a serious matter, Warren, and should never be done lightly.”

“Very well.”

“Very well what?”

“Very well, _sir_.”

“Thank you. Wanted to make sure you were paying attention. Now, let’s practice on the obstacle course, shall we?”

* * *

“Sorry it’s not much,” Crusoe said as she led them into her home.

“Hey, it’s better than the last place we stayed,” Jacobi assured her. “At least you actually have windows.”

“You can have mine and Na- the other room. I’ll sleep on the couch,” Crusoe said.

“Maxwell, you can take Miss Crusoe’s room. Jacobi and I will share the other room,” Kepler said. “Now, where are these rooms?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to me read this chapter [here](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1zRJm60OR9uM2_s5MyW1PtV9O_tdvJt92/view?usp=sharing)

The longer things went on without any disturbances, the more worried Eric got. Warren had now been here for a week with nothing out of the ordinary happening. Georgie seemed to be getting along with… what’s her name… Alana. However, she and Warren did not get along, so Eric had that to be thankful for. Warren’s new pet was definitely observant; he already figured out something had happened between him and Warren and had taken to glaring at him whenever possible. But also Rudyard kept glaring at Warren, so maybe it was the unsettlingness of strangers, either as them invading their home or being in an entirely new setting. That’s it. That is probably why Rudyard keeps glaring. Daniel, though… He worked in SI-5, so he should be used to situations like this.

No matter what, though, Eric still had to be prepared for anything.

SI-5 was probably here to kill him, that much was obvious. How they were going to do it was the question. Knowing Warren, it would probably be something big, loud, and obvious. He wasn’t one for subtleties. Unless he had grown. It had been a few years since… it all went down. That was the thing about Warren: he was adaptable. He could figure out that Eric would be expecting something big and instead do something small to throw him off-guard.

There were no funerals planned for that day (there had been a surprisingly few amount of deaths since Warren and his groupies had arrived), so Eric hid away in his office to plan. By some miracle, he almost went the whole day without any interruptions. Unfortunately, he thanked the forces beyond him too soon. Rudyard burst into Eric’s office.

“Chapman!” he yelled.

“What’s wrong?” Eric asked.

“You tried to blow up my funeral home!”

“Wha- Warren.”

* * *

"Littlewood!” Warren yelled.

“What’s wrong?” Richard asked.

“I figured out his schedule. We can stop him right now!” Warren said.

“We’re under strict observation orders, Warren, you know that,” he replied. “But knowing his schedule is extremely helpful, thank you for that.”

“So we’re just going to let him get away? Even after everything he's done?”

“Yes. Because those are our orders. And you know how Mr. Cutter feels about orders.”

“But we can stop him now!”

“Warren, even if we were allowed to, there will be too many civilians to worry about, and also, we have a performance tonight. If we want to keep up the act of being a band on tour to keep him around us, we can’t miss a performance.”

“I never wanted to be in a funk band anyway. And what kind of name is ‘Enjoy Yourself’ anyways?”

“Warren…”

“What are you going to do about it, _sir_?”

* * *

Kepler just wanted to leave. He wanted to be done with this and leave this place. It was bad enough that it was a small town (and god knows, he had had enough experience with those) but it was also an _island_ in _the middle of nowhere_ with his ex… partner, boyfriend, boss, fuck they had a messy relationship. He looked at Jacobi, sitting on the ground making plans for a bomb. Old habits die hard, he guessed. He hoped Jacobi wasn’t too jealous. On the other hand… jealousy could be a really good motivator in situations like this. Maybe he could play up his feelings for Littlewood, unpleasant as their history was, no matter how pleasant it seemed in the moment. 

He hadn’t even taken any action against them, offensive or defensive, and they had been there for a week. They even planted a bomb in that rival funeral home, hoping a threat to civilian life would be enough to draw him out. Nothing. Maybe he was even more of a coward than Kepler remembered.

Crusoe entered the room, carrying bags of groceries. She put them down before looking over Jacobi’s shoulder. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Jacobi said, pulling the plans out of her sight.

“Oh, it’s just that I’m great at creating improvised explosive devices,” Crusoe said, trying to look more at the paper. “The plan would be better if you just-”

“The plan is perfectly fine.” Jacobi yanked the paper away.

“Do you have any experience with such devices, Miss Crusoe?” Kepler asked. It would be just his luck that-

“Well, yes and no. I’ve done plenty of fireworks displays, and those are pretty much the same thing. And there was the time that-”

“Fireworks are not the same as what I do,” Jacobi said.

“Miss Crusoe, I understand you’re trying to be helpful, but all your ‘expertise’ is not necessary. My team is fully capable, and it is insulting, you insinuating otherwise,” Kepler said. She did not need to brag about being an expert in everything, and she was probably lying about them. From the stories she’s told, she just went travelling with her grandmother. She never told them her grandmother’s name though…

Anyways, it’s not fair that she’s supposedly great at everything without putting any effort in.

Crusoe held up her hands, surrendering. “Fine, fine. Just thought you would appreciate some help instead of doing everything by yourselves.”

“Actually, Georgie, do you have any experience with coding?” Maxwell asked from a chair in the corner.

“Oh, yeah, I’m great at coding. I once made an automatic mail sorter to help out with my job as the mayor’s secretary,” Crusoe said.

“Great! Do you want to head somewhere and help me with a project?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

The two left to go to a cafe, smiling. Good riddance.

* * *

“No no no, you’re thinking too much,” Littlewood said, striding towards Kepler. “You need to relax more.”

“How can I relax if I’m not getting it?”

“Because you’ll get it eventually.”

“But I need to get it now.”

“Warren, no one’s good at everything the first time.”

“But I need to be the best.”

“You’ll get there eventually.”

“I don’t have time for eventually.”

“You won’t if you injure yourself pushing yourself too hard. Now, let me help you and then relax and try again.” Littlewood adjusted Kepler’s stance and took his body through the motions. “Now, take a deep breath and try again. You are going to get it, no matter how long it takes.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last part! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Listen to this chapter [here](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1tGwd3XBYD_EUDMK9n1-Q1PkPQUTk6JSi/view?usp=sharing)  
> 

Time was running out, but he had a plan. It wasn’t a good plan, but it was a plan, and that was better than nothing. There were only a few days before Warren had to leave and his lack of progress probably meant he would do something drastic. Eric’s plan would hopefully work, but it involved the cooperation of the whole town, the Funns and Georgie in particular, they were the only people he trusted enough to help. Rudyard was loudly complaining behind the door when Eric went to ask for help. Since SI-5 almost blew up the funeral home, the doors were closed more often than not. It was rude to eavesdrop, but… Eric listened in.

“First _Chapman_ comes here with that bloody charming smile and charms the whole town - including Antigone - into loving him, and then his ex boyfriend comes in, and now all he does is worry about him! He never worried about competition from us like that. Does he not see us as worthy opponents? Why does he never try to foil our plans? And then his ex boyfriend and his ex’s current boyfriend try to blow up my funeral home! No one messes with the Funn’s funeral home. And Antigone has just been going on and on and on about that Maxwell, but she and Georgie seem quite taken with each other. Yes yes, Madeleine, I know that Jacobi has been telling you his life and you’re going to turn it into a hit novel, but I do not need a silver lining! Oh, what’s that?” Footsteps came towards the door. Eric quickly tried to act nonchalant, like he hadn’t just been listening. The door opened.

“Oh, hello Rudyard, I didn’t expect to see you here!”

“It’s my funeral home, Chapman.”

“Right.”

“It’s not polite to listen to people’s private conversations, Chapman.”

“Right.”

“It’s not like I was talking about you or anything.”

“Right.”

“What are you doing here?” Rudyard crossed his arms.

“I need your help with something,” Eric said.

“You- ... what?” Rudyard asked.

“I need your help with something,” Eric hoped this would work.

“You need my help with something,” Rudyard repeated.

“Yes, Rudyard, I need your help.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“If it works, Warren will leave.”

“I’m in.”

* * *

Warren was refusing any help. That boy would get nowhere if he couldn’t accept help. Not that Richard had too much room to preach. But if he didn’t accept any help soon, the band would figure out that they weren’t a couple from a small town in Pennsylvania who wanted to make it big in the music world. The other people in Enjoy Yourself were chosen for both their musical skills and also for their lack of observation, but even they had a limit.

“Warren, please, let me write the song instead. The band needs something,” Richard pleaded.

“No. I can do this. Besides, you’re way too into this. This is a mission, not your chance to live out your dream of being in a funk band.”

“You’re the one that does the most ridiculous stunts while we’re performing. You said you could write music, and they keep asking for something, but you don’t know how to write music! Let me help.”

“I don’t need any help.”

“Warren-”

“Leave.”

* * *

The biggest threat to their plan was Crusoe. Kepler had to give Maxwell a lecture to make sure Crusoe didn’t know anymore than she should. The two were getting dangerously close. Hopefully Maxwell would be fine when they left. Jacobi was talking to that funeral house mouse. Apparently people around here just talked to that mouse. The amount that Jacobi was talking to her was starting to be worrying. All in all, it was good that this would all be over soon.

Kepler looked over the plan one last time. It should work. It has to work. Despite that Funn, Rudyard, kept ruining their plans. He sighed and stood up, grabbing his coat and gun on the way out. One way or another, tonight was their last night on the island.

The village was fittingly quiet. Kepler had never seen it so quiet. Maxwell was supposed to be watching over the Funns and Crusoe to make sure they didn’t intervene. Jacobi was setting up the explosive on the outside of town. And Kepler, well, he was in charge of Chapman, for the first time in his life. And that feeling was so good.

He went to reach for his phone, only to remember that there was no reception here except for one spot that he planned to avoid so Cutter couldn’t reach him and gloat. They had done missions where they couldn’t communicate with each other before, but this felt different than before. Maybe because their target knew they were a target. Maybe because their previous plans had failed so many times due to that incompetent funeral home owner, always getting in their way, always hanging around Chapman. Maybe because it was Littlewood.

At some point after Kansas, he had stopped thinking about Littlewood. It was probably after he and Jacobi settled in. After he stopped comparing himself to Littlewood. After he stopped thinking about how kissing Littlewood felt when he and Jacobi kissed.

But that didn’t matter now. What mattered now was finishing the mission.

* * *

“Warren!” Littlewood yelled. Kepler ignored him, running into the street. He knew that Littlewood had ordered him not to intervene, but what mattered now was finishing the mission. He knew that this could be their last opportunity to stop the target. He knew that he was risking his job.

He knew that this was the right thing to do.

The driver must’ve realized they were the target of whatever Kepler was going to do and started recklessly speeding away, dodging other cars, causing pile-ups and panic. Kepler took what looked like a small stress ball out of his jacket pocket, took a deep breath to remember his training, and threw the ball at the car.

It sailed through the air, over the cars and people in the way.

It sailed towards the target’s car.

It hit the car and a moment later emitted a shockwave so strong Kepler was knocked backwards, only able to keep standing because he knew what to expect.

Over his shoulder, he could see Littlewood, shocked and appalled.

* * *

The plan was underway. It was organized so last minute, but fortunately, this was Piffling Vale. They were always in the mood for an event. Eric and Rudyard were able to convince everyone that they needed to throw a fête again, and that it needed to happen at such a short notice. The entire town was in the field. By his calculation, they were far enough away that no one would get seriously injured by the blast of the bomb that Daniel planted, but they were also close enough that it couldn’t be detonated without drawing attention. It was a good thing that Georgie had such a good memory. The ied placed in the Funn’s funeral home also gave him a good idea of what to expect. He had no idea how Rudyard had accidentally managed to deactivate it, but that’s Rudyard for you. Eric smiled.

The crowd in such a small area would make it difficult for them to find him. Even if they did, their main plan was still ruined, as they couldn’t do anything without drawing immediate attention. Of course, what was there to keep Warren from just shooting him? Maybe the town would avenge his death. Maybe Rudyard could work his magic of wonderfully ruining everything again.

With perfect timing, Rudyard ducked beneath the table where Eric was hidden. “No sign of them in sight,” he said, sitting besides Eric, letting the tablecloth hide them from the world.

“Thank you for doing this,” Eric said.

Rudyard looked determinedly everywhere except at Eric. “Don’t mention it.”

The two sat in silence.

Of course, eventually Rudyard interrupted it. “So what’s your history with Kepler?”

“Oh Warren? We used to work together.”

“People who work together don’t tend to flirt.”

“I suspect he’s doing that to make Daniel jealous. Playing on his emotions to get him to do better.”

“Have you ever done anything like that to anyone?”

He wanted to lie. He knew he should lie. If he told Rudyard the truth, Rudyard wouldn’t trust him anymore. But if he somehow figured out he had lied... “Yes.”

“Oh.” Rudyard was silent again before: “Have you ever done it to me?”

“Oh, no, never,” Eric said in a rush. “I’ve never done anything like that to you or Antigone or Georgie. I would never do that to someone I care about.”

“Guess it makes sense how you’re so good at charming the whole town.”

“Never quite charmed the person it mattered most to me.”

“Yeah, Georgie keeps turning you down.”

“No, not Georgie.”

“Who else could you mean?”

“After she rejected the proposal, I finally got the message - god I can be dense sometimes - and I also realized that she was not the person whose opinion I cared about the most.”

“Who, Antigone?”

“Not quite.”

“Then who else?”

Eric sighed and decided that maybe the direct approach was the best approach in this instance. “May I kiss you?” he asked.

“What, so you can get bored with me later and throw me away? ‘Oh that poor Rudyard, did you know he and Chapman used to date, but Chapman broke up with him, nothing good ever happens to him, he’s such a disaster.’” Rudyard folded his arms. Eric slowly and gently reached out to touch his face and guide him so they were staring at each other.

“Rudyard, I could never be bored with you. You’re fantastic and stubborn and plans involving you are always changing. I came to Piffling Vale to live a quiet life, but you made me realize that a quiet life just isn’t for me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You and Antigone and Georgie are the best people in my life. And you, Rudyard, you’re so fascinating that I could never be bored with you. When I was fired from my job, I never thought I could be happy or free of my past because I knew I would always be on the run, always on guard for something to endanger myself and the people around me. And I am so, so sorry that you and everyone else got wrapped up in it. But for the first time in… years, I feel _happy_. I’m looking forward to living again because I have you in my life, and everything that happens involving you is so interesting and makes life worth living. And just in case I don’t get another chance, I would like to kiss you.”

“You idiot,” Rudyard whispered, leaning in for the kiss.

* * *

When Littlewood and Kepler kissed, it was an argument. One of them had to be right. Littlewood couldn’t be seen as weak, but Kepler had to be in charge. Their kisses were always charged with energy. Their first kiss happened as a way to burn off adrenaline from a mission. Kepler knew that Littlewood fought with himself if this was good or right or proper, but it kept happening, and that made it all the more satisfying for him.

When Kepler and Jacobi kissed, it was cold and passionate. It reminded Kepler of kissing Littlewood, a reminder of his fucked up relationship with authority, always needing it or abusing it, needing some sort of proof that he was deserving of a place at the table, something he never had before Goddard. It reminded Jacobi of the art of making and dissembling bombs, something delicate but powerful, a danger he was addicted to. Their first kiss happened underneath fireworks on their anniversary. That was the most romantic things ever were between them.

When Rudyard and Eric kissed, it was like nothing either of them had felt before. For Rudyard, it was his first kiss and it was better than he ever could have imagined. For Eric, it was the first time he had kissed someone he truly loved. It felt right, safe. Their first kiss happened underneath a table at a party, with people hunting for Eric. But in that moment, they both knew everything would be fine.

* * *

Kepler was quiet on the boat ride off the island. Jacobi interrupted the silence. “How did we have two weeks to kill one former operative on one small island and somehow fail?”

“The people there care too much about him, and I don’t know if that Rudyard Funn has extraordinarily bad or extraordinarily good luck.” Maxwell shrugged.

“But what are we going to tell Cutter?”

“We are going to tell him that the loose end is wrapped up. No details. He does not need to know how this mission went.” Kepler stared off towards the water.

“What if he figures out the truth?” Maxwell asked. “Won’t he be mad that Richard Littlewood is still alive?”

“Richard Littlewood is dead. The loose end is wrapped up. The fact that Eric Chapman is still alive has no impact on mission success. And if you two do your job and follow orders, he won’t be finding out.”

* * *

Long story short, a long time ago, Eric Chapman was called Richard Littlewood, and he worked for Goddard Futuristics with Warren Kepler. But those days are in the past now. He had a whole life in Piffling Vale with Rudyard Funn and everyone who loved him ahead of him. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! For a half hour fic, I recorded for an hour, and I made a five minute compilation of some of my favorite mess-ups, including such fun things as "jean glance" and "carget". You can listen to it [here](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1XzNSWZBIlZIQ9e3XHAirCK9rkEu6ZW_N/view?usp=sharing)


End file.
